Poems and Stories

For Janinna 💕

One of my soul sisters sent this prompt to me. And I just wanted to see if I still got it with writing on the fly. I hope this delivered.

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She is finally silent, though her heavy breaths could still be heard within the stillness of the four walls of their living room. Her watery eyes are cold, determined, angry. She continues to look at him.

Him.

The man she once promised to love forever. The man she once said she’ll grow old together with. The man who held her heart for the longest time.

The man who she fell in-love once.

The same man that she isn’t in-love with anymore.

“I’m done,” she quietly says, sitting down on the couch she remembers as the very first furniture they bought together all those years ago. She chuckles bitterly at this realization. “I am just so done.” Continue reading “For Janinna 💕”

Nowhere To Go

He Was…

He was the first person I saw among the throng of people inside the bus. He was looking outside the window, his forehead on it, lost in thought. His shoulders were slumped, his eyes depicted loneliness. An aloneness that could only come from somewhere deep within. Sadness that couldn’t be reached unless coaxed out.

There was an empty seat beside him. Why no one would want to sit at that seat, when there were people standing inside the bus already, was something I couldn’t fathom at that moment. Maybe that was why he was lonely.  Because no one would sit beside him. No one wanted to be with him. His face unsmiling, his eyes glassy – seemingly on the verge of tears. He was lonely.  Alone.  So I went to him and sat beside him.  He looked up briefly, met my eyes head on and gave a small smile, his lips quirking a little on the side, his deep dimple showing on his left cheek.  As if he was grateful that I sat beside him, that I alone understood how he wanted to be with someone and yet no one would hear his silent plea.

I smiled back, acknowledging his silent thanks.  His gaze lingered with mine for a few seconds, as if trying to decipher something but then he went back to staring outside the window. I was half tempted to talk to him, to ask him how he was. To know what it was that he was thinking. To know why he was alone and seemingly lonely. To ask if he needed someone to listen to him, be with him, understand him.

I looked at his reflection on the window. With the glaring bright lights inside the bus, it wasn’t hard to see him. I wanted to comfort him, wrap my arms around him. To offer my friendship. To offer a listening ear, a lending hand, a friendly shoulder to cry on.  Where these thoughts and sudden feelings came from, I didn’t know.  Maybe it was the way he looked so forlorn, all by himself despite the congested bus.  Maybe it was the way he gazed at me when I first sat beside him.  Maybe it was the way he smiled.

But then – my stop came.

I took a glance at him, trying to see if he would look at me. That alone would have stopped me and I would have stayed put. But he didn’t. He continued staring outside the window. He continued on his silent loneliness.

I stood up and walked towards the exit of the bus. I looked back at him and I was startled. He was looking right back at me. Before I went down, he mouthed “Thank you”, his lips quirking up again in that little smile of his, his dimple making an appearance yet again.

Then the bus door closed.

As I watched the bus drive away – I smiled as well. And thought – Will I see him again tomorrow?


Written originally on September 26, 2006
Edited and re-printed on March 28, 2016

Nowhere To Go

Puff. Puff. Swig.

She was trembling that night. As she silently padded her way from her bedroom to the balcony of her condo, she was trembling.  Slowly, she got out her cigarette pack from her back pocket and placed down a bottle of half-consumed red wine beside her as she sat down on her patio chair.

She lit a cigarette and puffed. She removed the cork of the red wine bottle and took a swig. She puffed once more. Puffed another. Then took a swig.

Puff.  Puff.  Swig.  

Puff.  Puff.  Swig.  

Puff.  Puff.  Swig.

Then she put the bottle down, threw her cigarette butt on the ground and stepped on it.  She took out another.  She was trembling so hard that she dropped it before lighting it up.  She buried her face in her hands, cigarette in between her fingers and sobs started to rack her shoulders.

He was by her front door, standing there waiting for her to say something.  She would look anywhere but at him.  She told him, he should go.  That it was getting late and that he had a long way to drive before reaching home.  There was nothing left for them to talk about.

He didn’t move from where he stood.  He continued standing there, asking her silently, imploring her. What’s wrong? He asked. Please. Tell me what’s wrong.

But she remained silent.  She didn’t say anything.  Finally, she looked up and stared at him.  Eyes devoid of emotion.  

You should leave. That was all she said.

Are we still – you know – together?  He asked.  Pleadingly.  Softly.  Calmly.  Although he was anything but.  

He tried to reach for her.  But she took a step back, arms going around herself.  A defense mechanism.

She didn’t say anything again.  She continued to look beyond him.  Then slowly she turned away from him.  She started to close her door.

Please.  Just…  Just leave.  She told him.

I still love you, you know.  I will still wait for you.  No matter what.  He tried to persuade her to face him. To listen to him.  

But she would no longer budge.

He turned away.  Head down, defeated.  He slowly walked towards the elevators.  He pushed the down button and gave her one last look. 

She wasn’t looking. 

He sighed and stepped inside. 

She closed her door and went to her bedroom. She was trembling.

Her sobs racked her body.  Her cries consumed her.  She was trembling that night.  She was trembling.

Written originally on March 11, 2006
Edited and re-printed on March 28, 2016